


Worship Me

by garylovesjohn



Category: Faith (Airdorf Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Demonic Possession, Demons, Ero Guro, Extremely Dubious Consent, Forced Orgasm, Horror, M/M, Necrophilia, Oral Sex, Painful Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom, Priests, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Guilt, Shame, Size Difference, Teratophilia, loose hole, unwanted arousal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garylovesjohn/pseuds/garylovesjohn
Summary: A young priest encounters a possessed runaway in the woods.
Relationships: Michael Davies/John Ward
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	Worship Me

**Author's Note:**

> More Faith smut because I'm thirsty.  
> Once again, mind the tags. Nobody is forcing you to read.
> 
> Also, the Zalgo font might look wonky if you're viewing this on mobile.
> 
> Michael was first intended to be an adult and that's what I went with.  
> But hey, if you wanna virtue signal by defending a fictional character, knock yourself out.

It was a dark, moonless night. No sounds were to be heard in the Snake Meadow Hill forest. Not the chirping of crickets nor the skittering of wild animals. An unnatural silence hung over the sinister trees. Not even a lick of wind dared disturb their eerie watch.

All John could hear was the sound of his own footsteps. The dry dirt crumbling under his shoes accompanied by the snapping of twigs here and there.

Then suddenly, the droning roar of a ten wheeler truck driving down the road a few yards south startled him.

It's nothing, he told himself, holding his cross closer to his pounding chest.

He hoped that his parked car wouldn't rouse any suspicion.

He had to finish what he started. What he, in his cowardice, had abandoned.

Even though a year had passed, a mournful terror still enveloped these parts. A great evil lurked amidst the trees.

It made John's hair stand on end.

As he walked forward, he finally spotted the old well. A sad, decrepit sight, with wet, slimy mushrooms growing around it along with unpleasant weeds, long and thin.

This meant that he would soon be arriving at the old Martins' house.

With faith in his heart, he kept heading north, further into the cold darkness of this late September night.

When he finally reached the residence, it certainly looked different than last he had seen it. The place was in a state of disrepair, sporting weather damages as if it had been abandoned for a decade and not just a single year. The windows were boarded up, the roof had lost many shingles, the garden fences had been reclaimed by the untended nature.

And the door was locked, John discovered as he tried turning the handle.

Great.

He looked around the place, flipping a few discarded flower pots, spooking the resident rolly-pollies away, in hope of finding the key.

No such luck.

He tried standing on tiptoes, barely reaching up the door's sill with his fingers, to feel around if maybe what he was looking for was hidden there.

Nothing, only dust.

Where could it be?

He went around the house. The backdoor was bolted shut and the few spots that might hide a key were barren of any interest.

Maybe I should come back with a crowbar and get in through a window, John pondered with a defeated sigh.

It would take hours for him to drive back home and return here. Not to mention, if anyone saw him, he would look extremely suspicious.

As he weighed his options, he remembered the old cabin that also belonged to the Martins. A shed, more like, but he had been there once, last year, with Father Allred.

He had nothing to lose from checking it out.

Maybe he could find tools there.

Maybe even a spare key to the house, as unlikely as it would be.

With hopes renewed, John headed towards his new objective. He vaguely recalled where the cabin was. He knew it wasn't that far. Surely it wouldn't be too difficult to find either. He could already see an overgrown trail serpenting between the twisted pines.

Following it, he soon happened upon what appeared to be the old remains of a deer. The pale bones had been picked clean. Some were frayed as if gnawed upon.

There was nothing left, not even fur.

The grisly sight made John a bit uneasy. These were only bones, but there was something wrong about them.

Like they were organized somehow, but in such a chaotic, senseless way that it was difficult to tell for sure. It was like someone or something had toyed with them.

What could have killed the animal? There were no bears nor bobcats in these woods.

In fact, the only thing that was of any danger to the local deer here was the road.

Maybe it just had naturally passed away.

However, John could not shake his fear. There was a malevolent force at work.

Something had taken this innocent creature's life.

Something evil.

In fact, the more he neared the cabin, the more anxious he became.

Every few steps, he had to stop dead in his tracks and listen in closely. He thought he heard rustling, but it always stopped whenever he did, so he couldn't be sure.

The more he walked, the more he had the certitude that some footsteps were not his own.

Maybe it was just an animal. Maybe the unsettling sight of the dead deer had made him paranoid and now he was imagining things.

But he couldn't shake the impression that he was being watched.

And whatever was keeping an eye on him was also following him, lurking in the dark.

With a gasp, he turned around, clutching his cross so hard his knuckles were white.

There was nothing on the trail behind him.

Come on, John, don't lose your cool now. He repeated in his head as he quickened his pace.

Now, he was convinced. There definitely was something trailing along.

His panicked gaze tried to spot whatever was nearby to no avail.

But he saw the cabin merely a few yards away.

If he could just reach it.

The footsteps that weren't his own were closing in.

John didn't dare to look back anymore. Whatever it was, he could hear it breathing now.

He ran as fast as he could towards the rickety shack.

He felt an immense relief to find the door slightly ajar. He entered and slammed it shut, holding it in place with all of his body weight for a moment.

Nothing bumped against it trying to force its way in.

In fact, the foreign noises disappeared entirely.

John caught his breath, terrified.

Had he just imagined it?

Shaking, he backed away from the door, realizing that it would not remain closed unless he put something against it.

And there was nothing in the cabin that could serve this purpose. At least, nothing heavy enough to prevent whatever was out there from entering.

It's all in your head, John. He sighed, annoyed with the fact that he should not feel so much fear in his heart. After all, God was with him.

Was He not?

He began rummaging through the debris upon the cabin floor. He quickly got discouraged as he found nothing but trash.

However, a metallic tinkle caught his attention after he lifted an old plastic pail and saw something fall out of it.

A key.

He thanked the Lord almighty for this gift, taking it as a sign that his mission was right.

Smiling, he pocketed his prize.

His joy, however, suddenly vanished along with the heat in his body as he heard a sound, like claws against glass, at the window.

He turned around in a startle, just in time to catch a pale silhouette scurrying away.

Filled with adrenaline, John bolted towards the entrance to try and keep whatever was outside from entering.

Unfortunately, the door slammed open before he could grab a hold of it, letting the gangrel creature in.

John tripped as he tried to back away and landed straight on his rear in a thud.

As he did so, his cross slipped out of his grip.

Instantly, he tried getting it back, but in his panic, he only pushed it further away.

The monster was already upon him.

John's unnerved eyes were filled with tears, but through them he saw that, whatever this thing was, it wasn't a demon. It had to have been a person at some point. Now it was but a hollow husk, white as a sheet, and so skinny it shouldn't be alive.

Could it be…

"Michael?" the name barely escaped his throat, terrified as he was.

He knew his old friend and colleague, Father Garcia, had recently lost a possessed young man under his care after attempting to exorcise him.

A poor lad named Michael Davies.

John had never seen him before, but had been informed that the demon inside had wrought immense damage upon his body. So much so that he no longer looked human and could not be returned to his family in such a state.

The pale creature let out a guttural laugh as he bent in two backwards, beyond how any human body could ever contort. He was nothing but skin and bones. His mouth torn into a red smile baring sharp fangs. His eyes sunken in and bloodshot. He had lost all of his hair, his nose was gone as well, and his skin was so white it was almost transparent, exposing dark veins within.

Y͏̼Ơ̷͖̹̫͙̮U̹̺̪͖̗̼̯̝̠͟ ̩Ḳ̤̩̹̥̬̗͢N̛̹̯̗̠̲̩͎̟O̶̪͉͇̥̱͓̗͘W̭ ҉͖̬͚N̪͡O̘͈̯̜͔͙͍̕T̨̲͈͓͔͍̰̘H͈͍̬͚͓͚̖̫͞I̭̫̻̥N̶̨̠͈̗̤G͎̝͘͞,̛͙̹̺̣͎̬̗̼ ̞̦͙͘P͚̩̙͍̗E̶͈̹̭͠N̩̲͍̜̣͙͢ͅḐ̡̭̟͇̻̮̮Ę̧̲͚J̭̣̪͎̹O͙̺͔͔͜͝͡!̸͖̜͓̙͖͕͍̝͔

  
Yes, it had to be Michael.

Pinned down and helpless, John could only stare in horror as the young man straddled his lap. He weighed as little as a feather, but was so immensely powerful that he had no trouble restraining him.

Spidery fingers began to unbutton his shirt, baring his horripilated skin to the cold air.

"What are you doing?" whined John, confused, as Michael's hands, clawed and glacial, explored his chest, caressing it intimately. His nipples hardened due to the lowering temperature, making them so much more receptive to stimulation.

Those same hands languidly trailed down his taut stomach, all the way to his pants.

They undid his belt, unzipped his fly, and lowered them to his knees.

"Stop!" John cried, not liking where this was going at all, "Michael, please."

He prayed that calling the boy's name would make him snap out of it, if only momentarily.

Was the poor young man even alive somewhere in there?

Perhaps the demon had full control of his body now, or corpse rather, and exorcising it would result in death.

P̦̥̖̫̤̩̘̼L͙̻E̟̞̠͜A͘͢͏̫̮̹͚̭͕̣̟S̟͠E̲̘̺̱͉͍̤̭͜͞ͅ!̥̖̮͢͞ͅ ̷͎̙̱̠̣̰̰̫͠P̛̪̥̤͢L̖̟̣̻E̩̮͈A̡̩̥͞S̢͕̳̤͟E͟͏̼͚̭͉!̴̨͙̫͖ ̱̭̹̗̱̫̱͜P̩̝ͅͅL҉̧͎̫͕͚͉͈̻̺E҉̹̪̖̥̦̥A͎̻̰̫̲̖͕̮S̵҉̛̦̱͕̫̻E̗̖̻̖̕!͇̙͠͝

  
Michael retorted, mocking, as he lowered himself between the priest's legs. His long, red tongue licking a stripe from his sternum to his flaccid member.

John began to pray, struggling to resist. He closed his eyes to the obscene horror before him. The possessed lad's mouth around his soft cock. The unnatural feeling of chills. How could the poor boy be so cold and yet so alive?

His breath hitched as he felt fangs grazing his intimacy. Not truly hurting him, but causing him to shiver nonetheless. That soft, drooling mouth sucked harder still. Slurping was the only noise that disturbed this abnormally quiet night along with both their ragged breaths.

Against his will, John bucked his hips, shivering in unwanted pleasure as he was hardening under the young man's unrelenting ministrations. The rasp tongue twirling around his sensitive glans. Those dangerous hands tugging on his plump balls.

He began to wonder if it was the demon that had taught Michael those tricks or if he had known them before.

A moan escaped his parted lips which he instantly covered with both his hands, ashamed of himself. As if he could somehow swallow that noise back.

Nothing about this felt good. It was cold and wet and unpleasant and vile.

He hated it.

Did he?

"Michael, please." he whined, muffled by his palms. His voice, already tiny and miserable, fell on deaf ears.

It was obvious that the lad had no intentions to stop.

Even when he quit sucking, John knew it was far from over.

Curiosity got the best of him and he couldn't keep his eyes closed for very long. He watched, breathless, as the young man positioned himself over his twitching cock.

Michael lowered his emaciated hips, taking it without any effort, sitting proudly atop the conquered priest. The pleasant heat inside gave him a small shiver of pleasure. That feeling spurred him on and he began to move, seeking to satisfy a deep, unrelenting urge. A craving that had grown stronger than his desire for carnage.

His ass was all skin and bones with little to no flesh for padding. Thus it hurt his unwilling victim's hips every time it met them.

His hole was loose, dripping with anal slime and slobber, creating repulsive squelches whenever he hilted himself on the priest's offered shaft.

John wished he could crawl away. Everything about these sensations was abnormal. It was loose and doughy. Not to mention cold.

Utterly disgusting. 

He felt sick to his stomach.

But, to his shame, he couldn't control his arousal. He was hard as a rock inside that sloppy boycunt. Feeling all the soft mounds of guts rubbing against him. There was no tightness, no resistance, just an enveloping wet chill that lazily sucked him in.

He wondered if it had gotten so slack due to abuse or possession.

Regardless, it made his skin crawl. No matter how much he tried to lose his erection for it to finally stop, he just couldn't. Michael rode him hard, much more energetic than his sorry state would lead one to assume.

The boy panted in pleasure, a gravelly sound, almost like a growl. His own erection, quite sizeable compared to John's humble member, bounced along with his hips, slapping the priest's stomach, slattering it in precome. A long tendril of drool swayed from his torn lips. His blood-red smile one of deep satisfaction.

How he had longed for this.

John had little to no strength left. He gripped the withered lad's waist and tried prying him away, but it was no use. The more he struggled, the harder he was dominated. His hips were bruised black and blue by the grinding of bony ass against them.

Despite the pain, it felt so good. Better than any sex he ever had before, not that he had been very active in that department. No matter how much he tried to fight back against this unwanted pleasure, he simply couldn't resist.

Michael rode him to his completion, christening the priest's body with a generous spray of his ejaculate.

The sudden increase in pressure as the possessed body contracted around his shaft was too much for John to bear. He was so on edge, he began to thrust upwards, fucking his come as deep as he could in that now lukewarm hole. His release humble in quantity compared to Michael's demon-fueled explosion.

He kept pounding long after his culmination died down. His erection refusing to flag, happy to plunge into those slimy folds espousing it so lovingly. John chased a second peak in there as he gave his unlikely partner a powerful dry orgasm as well.

He panted, trembling in pleasure, but also from that sinking feeling of what he had done. He shouldn't have given in. He shouldn't have taken advantage of Michael like this. The poor boy was not in control of his own actions, he didn't know what he was doing.

He's too strong, there was nothing I could do. John told himself, but it did nothing to alleviate his guilt.

The young man collapsed on top of him in an ecstatic purr. He felt malformed lips pressing kisses into his neck, always expecting the next one to tear at his throat.

Such gruesome violence never came. Only lazy, slobbery smooches.

With a spurt of cooling seed, his softening cock plopped out of the lad's soft hole, still twitching in post-orgasmic bliss.

John closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. Somehow, he had soothed the demon within. He could at least be proud of that, regardless of how sinful the methods had been.

He wrapped his arms around Michael's skeletal frame, hugging him tightly, caressing his back, feelings all the bones underneath his paper-thin skin.

Strung between comfort and disgust, John slowly drifted away into an uneasy nap.

**Author's Note:**

> Goshdarn cross made out of butter. It just keeps slipping out of John's hands.
> 
> Wishlist FAITH on Steam and play the demo if you haven't already.  
> www.garylovesyou.com


End file.
